The Boy of His Dreams
by Cee Blue
Summary: Keith had always been a quiet boy, always labeled as 'the loner' or 'emo' due to his silent tendencies. Looking through the crowd, Keith would just be another face begging for attention. Dark clothes, long hair, always wearing headphones, and deaf to the world around him. Keith is just another guy, a meaningless face in the crowd... (The first chapter is basically the summary.)
1. Regular Days

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender, nor do I own any of it's characters. I do not own the cover art, either. It was taken from this link that belongs to an amazing artist: post/156916736040/voltron-dump-good-lord-its-been-a-min-king-and**

 **All I own/could own is the plot and story idea. This idea may have been done before, I do not know. This is my personal touch to this sort of situation. Again, I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender, nor do I own the cover art. Only the plot. Enjoy the story.**

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Keith.. Keith was just another face in the crowd. He was no one new, just someone that could easily be glossed over in a crowd. Keith was quiet, but he didn't appear shy. Not to most, at least. Keith was not a shy person in the eyes of others. He was the _freak_ , the _slow_ kid, the _aggressive_ kid that needed discipline. He was still that kid, just.. things were different, now. For him, at least.

Keith was silent, always the silent child. Some said that he played mute, played deaf.. sometimes he did. He'd look people dead in the eye and raise an eyebrow in confusion. Even when they shouted so loud that his ears ached, Keith could pretend, because there were days that Keith just couldn't manage to pull out a reaction. Not one that'd please the ones that antagonized him because he was just that different from others. Other days he'd look people in the eye with a sort of unbridled rage and no one but his brother could stop him from throwing the first hit.

There was a reason that Keith was labeled the _problem child_. There was a reason that Keith had no friends years after being orphaned.

Keith was antisocial. He rarely spoke unless spoken to by the teacher, and, even when he got into fights, Keith would barely breathe a word. The only words heard from him were the ones spoken to the teacher and the ones he murmured when he grew aggravated.

"Leave," he'd glare, even as a child. There was always fire behind his words, fire no one quite understood.

"Shut up," he'd look people in the eye as he often would give a growl of frustration. It'd be low and guttural, even animalistic, to the point that some would back off right there.

"Leave me alone." Sometimes, his voice would be desperate, even tired.

Most often, there wouldn't even need to be a word spoken and Keith would lunge at someone. He rarely lost the fights he got into, but when he did.. neither really felt like they'd won anything. It was just rage.. anger and fists would fly faster than the blink of an eye. There was a reason Keith had been kicked off the football teams. Not just because of his disciplinary issues, but because he was often too rough for the other players. Silent communication was perfect for him, but it was the fact that he was so aggressive that got him kicked off. It was funny.. because, in spite of his aggression, Keith was easily one of the smartest students in the school.

It didn't help that every time that Keith reached a new educational level, Shiro would graduate and move on, leaving him behind. Keith was always alone. And, entering high school with Shiro off with Matt during his classes, or locked in his room everyday until break, when he'd finally join Keith again in the quiet little house that was always too quiet when the three weren't spending time together or the kitchen wasn't on fire or something, Keith would realize that he'd never felt more alone. It was agonizing.

And his dreams, oh god Keith's dreams never seemed to end. There would always be something new, no matter how small. A new person, a new machine, a new name, species, fact, way of thinking, method of living, something was always happening, even in old dreams. They'd come back and Keith would be shocked by something new. Without Shiro around, Keith needed an outlet for the dreams. For a long time, he tried writing about it, but he gave up on that method. He'd tried calling Shiro to talk or even going up to his room, but that attempt was quickly shot down. Shiro was a college student, a damn good one at that, but even he got overwhelmed by the work and he was always one to turn into bed early. Unlike Keith.

It wasn't until one day in class, around the second semester of his freshman year, that Keith found his outlet. His mind was numb, and the words he absorbed sank in only to fade into the back of his mind. And then something surfaced, something familiar. Keith didn't know what to do it. At that point, it'd been so long since he'd told Shiro, he thought that he'd explode with all of the things he was keeping inside. So, he turned to an empty page in his notebook and put his pencil to the paper. It wasn't until he heard his teacher's voice beside him that he came back to reality.

Keith learned, after getting that page taken away, that drawing and sketching were his outlets. Painting became a big part of him as well, once that same teacher took him out of his disciplinary class and placed him in Art I. Most were wondering why the _emo freak_ was put in an art class out of all the ones available until they saw his art. He was considered an art nerd once the word got around. It was the reason why he had teachers mail his art to the house or meet him at a local shop rather than just taking everything home at the end of the school day. Those projects easily became important to him.

They had all had derived from his dreams, after all.

So, as he discovered this method, there were things that.. happened in his dreams, some unspeakable due to the mental turmoil it put Keith through, other things Keith could babble on about for hours, embarrassingly enough. As Keith showed Shiro this skill on Shiro's winter break, he'd notice something that would just _'click!'_ when he showed off his dreams. The ones he could remember and bring himself to talk about.

They were overlapping with some dreams Shiro had been having in college. Now, Shiro wasn't the perfect man, some things he'd look at and find he couldn't remember at all, but he could look into Keith's drawing and say that he remembered something like it, too. Shiro didn't have Keith's artistic ability, but he could remember bits and pieces that'd often overlap with Keith's drawings. It was something so odd, but they never really told anyone. They'd probably be called crazy if they did. It was another secret between the two brothers.

Lucky Keith, right?

It seemed like that, but it didn't help with school. Not with the people in it, there was always someone.. just someone that had to stick their nose where it didn't belong. Someone that had to get into Keith's business and crawl under his skin until he lost his patience. Keith was never that lucky.

Most at school, most that cared to learn about the emo freak they whispered about, knew about Keith's artistic ability. Some actually looked to his artwork in awe, but others saw it as just another part of his _freakishness_. First Keith was damn near stoic, then he got kicked off the football team, he got into fights, was always alone, and he was an artist? Apparently, that was a freaky thing that Keith himself couldn't quite understand.

Keith had always been considered socially inept. It had been proven time and time again that he certainly struggled in the area, seeing as he lacked friends, and his social awkwardness tended to get him into things that even he himself didn't understand why he was dragged into. There were few times where people gave that to him. He was the trouble kid, even though he was _Shiro's little brother_. Being _Shiro's little brother_ was what got Keith out of suspension and the little school for the delinquents. Juvenile Hall, District, the school for little shits - it was all the same thing. Keith was.. considerably lucky at times. Simply because he was.. _Shiro's little brother_.

Keith hated that excuse, he never used it, but someone always brought it up. The only reason they were comparable was because.. well there were a few reasons. Shiro smiled more, he was more friendly, more appreciated, more socially interactive, and just.. overall more. Apparently, Keith was living in his brother's shadow, but even Keith knew well enough that it was just others being jealous because Keith was Shiro's brother. Keith loved Shiro, and couldn't quite understand why people said he was living in Shiro's shadow. His brother would never do something like that to Keith, so why were people saying that?

No, being Shiro's little brother wasn't why Keith would get into fights. It was actually the reason Keith avoided them. Being reminded that he was Shiro's brother was enough to help Keith remember that he didn't need to get into a pointless fight. He made sure that Shiro knew about it, too. He was proud to be his brother, even if he had a hard time showing it during school.

For those that actually gave a shit, most reasons people got into fights with Keith were because they had _insulted_ Shiro, Matt, or Keith's mother or father. Granted they hadn't been apart of Keith's life as of the past years of his life, they were still people Keith held close to his heart. He wasn't going to let someone poison their good name.

Sometimes, he'd see bullying going on and it just so happened that no one was looking their way or there happened to be no teacher in sight. Other times, someone would criticize his art, his literal _dreams_ , calling them bullshit and apart of Keith's desperate escape. Dammit, if anyone knew the value of art, they'd know that even Keith's pieces meant more than they appeared to.

Keith didn't fight for the fun of it or even begin to go looking for a fight, the only person he could manage it with was Shiro, he actually hated to fight. But there were times when he couldn't get over something and there were times that fights were impossible to avoid. Keith had taught himself self-defense. It happened that his method usually ended with bloody knuckles, noses, and clothes. Not to mention bruises, but never scars. He was sensible enough to realize when he'd crossed a line. _That_ line specifically.

Keith was still human, believe it or not. He was afraid, he was impulsive, he was alive, he.. he was completely and utterly human, even with his dreams. They probably meant nothing, but he had convinced himself otherwise years ago. Even though he still asked Shiro what he thought they could mean, especially since there were ones that'd overlap.

Keith's dreams just so happened to make the gap between himself and others widen.

It was one of the reason why he was so problematic, at the very least, seeing as there was a lot of meaningless criticism pertaining to his art. By people that barely knew a thing about what he drew or barely knew much more than Keith's name and the rumors spread about himself. He almost wished he could stop them, but.. he couldn't give in like that. High school students that were in the gossip circle had nothing better to do. Unless they struck a nerve, Keith wouldn't give the time of day.

Keith was another face in the crowd. He was quiet, aggressive at times, and always alone on school grounds. He drew art of a place he was sure only Shiro and himself knew a lick about. He was the typical 'emo' that wore dark clothes, was always alone even in the supposed group projects, and never made social gatherings an option. His friends were Matt and Shiro, but he didn't talk with them much. He was lucky to see them in the morning during breakfast, really. And then he had dreams to go to space and literally dreamed about being in space with people he'd never truly seen in space.

For the past two years, that was how life went for Keith. He'd start and often end the day alone.

It wasn't until a few months into his Junior year of high school that things seemed to change. He remembered the day clearly simply because it was so different and a shock to his mundane routine. It was also the first day of his high school carrier that Keith hadn't felt completely and utterly alone in school. Which was funny, because even on the few days Shiro somehow got permission to attend the school with Keith, because of some holiday, Keith couldn't help but feel alone.

Needless to say, Keith began to question his art and dreams more often.

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 **A/N: I understand that this probably isn't the best start to the story, but it is something I wanted to try and begin sharing with this site. Please leave constructive criticism or compliments on any part of this. I'd appreciate knowing what I did right and wrong. I apologize if this is a bit.. scattered, I have that tendency in my writing and am trying to improve. Thank you for reading! This was posted on my Wattpad account as well. _cee_blue_**


	2. Old, New, and Familiar

**Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender, nor do I own the characters. I only own the plot. Thank you, and please enjoy the story.**

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Keith was tired. He was always tired, but it seemed like his body decided to ache painfully as he awoke, the soft sounds of prerecorded wind chimes rang through the room as Keith pushed his body to sit up. Where did he put his phone, again? He looked around slowly, with tired eyes that hosted familiar dark bags under them. He felt around, on and under, the covers, making small sounds before pale fingers ran over cold glass. Assuming that nothing had broken, Keith grabbed it and blinked as his screen came into view. He groaned as he fell back again onto his bed.

He was not ready to go back to hell, he'd just woken up.

There was a knock from the floor below him that resonated through the wall and Keith wanted nothing more than to curl up and fall back asleep, but he didn't have that option. Not truly. Besides, a mental health day would do him no good. Keith was lucky he woke with enough time to shower and clear his head at the very least.

It was with that final thought that Keith turned off the alarm and pulled his body up, running a hand through his bed head which looked more like a rat's nest than anything else. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed before plugging the charger into his phone, and grabbing the pill bottle he had set aside. Just like his brother had said, Wednesday was always Keith's most difficult day out of the seven. His headache only proved the point, seeing as he hadn't even stayed up too late the night before.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking to the window in his room. There was only one, but Keith always felt that it was one too many. Sometimes, he liked it, but seeing the blue sky tinge yellow.. Keith pulled himself out of bed, running a hand through his hair, trying to tame the unruly locks as he reached for the curtain and pulled it over the window. He didn't need the sun, not today.

Keith let out a soft groan as he rested his head against the wall beside the window. He decided that he was going to be too tired for everyone's bullshit. He'd need to remember his headphones.

Keith walked along the wall of his room over to his dresser, pulling out his outfit for the day as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Keith always could see better in the dark than others. Specifically his brother and Matt. Keith was just lucky in that regard. At least, Keith let himself believe that he was lucky.

He threw his outfit for the day over his shoulder, making his way to the bathroom with a silent yawn, rubbing at the tired tears that welled in his eyes. He set down his clothes, turning on the faucet just so he had the sound of running water to help him relax. He needed to clear his head. He probably should've awoken earlier and grabbed his sketchbook, but he was never the best at getting up with his alarms. Hence why he tried so many. It seemed like softer alarms were always the ones that woke him. Go figure. Quiet sounds wake up the quiet boy.

Either way, Keith flicked on the bathroom light, wondering if the other two boys were still asleep. It'd explain why he didn't smell smoke, yet. Shiro was a terrible morning cook, and Matt was always working on some new piece of tech that he and his sister would babble on about to each other.

It was always the quieter mornings that seemed to get into Keith's head. It was like his dreams; he was always so quiet. The team rarely looked to him, or they always would, as if expecting him to fill the silence. Keith, who the ginger girl in his dreams had dubbed, 'the Loner'. It was so odd how the silence he was so used to would often be so overwhelming and leave him in such a chaotic mindset, yet he was so inclined to hide in it rather than be apart of the noise of others.

Keith was always the oddball when it came to things like that. With overwhelming silence and chaotic sound. He wasn't good with either, even if it didn't matter to him whether or not others thought that it was odd, Keith still found himself noticing these little details about himself.

Keith shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he looked to the mirror. Might as well get ready for the day. He didn't have long. His train would show up in about an hour. It was more than enough time for Keith to mentally prepare himself for the day. Most of the hour would be Keith trying to eat something and standing in the train station, but Keith still had to get himself ready before than.

Keith ran the faucet, splashing some water onto his face to wake him up more so he could actively ready himself. There was lingering fatigue after a few attempts, but Keith never really got past his lethargy. So he huffed and grabbed his hair stuff, parting his hair and working whatever product Matt and Shiro had agreed was good for said boy's hair, combing through to spread whatever the product was, washing his hands once he finished applying the odd scented product. He felt a little more awake at that point.

Keith grabbed the weird facial product and spread it on his face, brushing his teeth while it set in. He never really knew how exactly the cleanser worked, simply because he didn't care enough to look it up, but he knew that the slight burn along his skin that made him want to itch meant that it was working and that he should probably get it off with a washcloth. Which he did after he brushed his teeth, going over his skin numerous time in case he missed something.

After rinsing off his mouth, Keith dropped his pajama pants and started pulling on his clothes for the day, having showered the night before. He never understood showering in the morning. It took more time. Besides, he didn't need to fall asleep before he got to the train, or even on the train. He was tired enough as it was, a shower would just lulled him asleep at the most inconvenient point in time. Keith settled as he finished pulling on his clothes, finding it in himself to admire how he looked in the mirror. Yeah, admire himself. It was an odd thought, but he was coming to terms with it. Not everyday was one for him to hate himself, not anymore.

Keith's more prominent color in his clothing was black. Or, different shades of black, since different brands could never just pick one shade to be a universal black. Keith's irritation on the lack of communication or care for the matter was not the point.

Keith wore black. While picking clothes, he'd chosen to accent his outfit with red.

The combat style boots he wore were Keith's official black, not leaning toward blue, red, green or any other color when compared to them. Just black. His jeans, on the other hand, seemed to lean more toward a black-blue rather than the simple black of his boots. They were ripped in the knees and along his thigh in a way considered fashionable, he guessed, under them being a pair of scarlet leggings to accommodate to the dress code of his high school. His shirt was the same shade of black as his boots, 'FUCK YOU' written in bright bloody red across the front, the long sleeve a bit long on him as it settled over his nearly scrawny body. Keith's jacket. He had to switch it out from his normal grey, seeing as some asshole had doused it in.. whatever the hell people had at the end of football games, only aware that it reeked of a mix of beer and sugar. Maybe some Gatorade, too.

His new jacket, or Shiro's older one, was pretty big on him in all actuality, long enough to reach just above mid-thigh and leave a good inch or two between the sleeve's hem and his fingers. As much as Keith secretly loved the slight purple tinge of the black jacket, he would never tell Shiro and he almost didn't want to go to school because of how small it made him look and feel. Keith liked the vulnerability, but not when he was preparing to go to a place in which people often used those vulnerabilities against others. Sadly, Shiro wanted him in something since the weather's temperature was dropping pretty fast as they started leaning toward the winter months of the year and Keith just refused to wear more than two layers on any part of his body.. aside from underwear, but that didn't count.

Keith also was too lazy to fight it, seeing as he wore a jacket to school everyday and he wasn't going to fight if they were both comfortable for the most part. Keith just ran a hand through his hair and looked himself in the mirror. He saw a small smile in the mirror and felt the corners of his lips twitch up in a synchronized movement. He actually thought he looked pretty good when looking in the mirror. He looked pretty attractive. Or, he felt that way. He didn't look like a model or anything, but he recognized that he looked attractive. Not in a narcissistic way, he just.. noticed that he was attractive.

Other people probably wouldn't care, probably wouldn't have stared as thoughtfully at their reflection, but Keith had. He liked the look of himself, at times. He was always told that he looked better than others to some degree.. he found himself appreciating his looks some of those times. Keith wanted to remember this time for when he felt numb again, grey when it came to mentions of his body. Keith hadn't always had the best self image, after all. Not in past years. He'd been getting better though. Keith washed his hands one last time before shutting off the bathroom light and making his way back to his bedroom. Just over ten minutes. Longer than he wanted, but Keith was okay with it. There was still time in the morning. At least Keith wasn't going through that emo makeup faze with Shiro's eyeliner and his black lipstick and all of the just.. no. Never revisiting that phase.

Keith decided that his mind was a bit clearer, that he didn't need a few minutes to sketch, not yet. So when he found his sketch book set out on his nightstand, where he'd left it the night before, he picked up a couple different pencils and put them and his sketchbook into his bag, deciding to leave his phone on the charger since he'd need the music for the train ride to block out all of the overwhelming sound. He hadn't used his phone much the day before, aside from listening to music all day long, but Keith had a habit of charging it when he got home and staying up an hour or two on it past midnight whenever he found it in himself to plug his laptop in, usually having finished an assignment or project. It was nice to just wind down and then pass out from the stress of a day.

It was then that Keith looked away and gathered his things for the school day. The usual. His bag, his notebooks, laptop, pencils, binders, pencil bag, and then his chargers in case the batteries got too low during class. Lucky Keith for being able to take care of his stuff. With that, Keith found and picked up his earbuds, deciding that the black and fact that they were small and subtle would suit how he felt. Besides, no one really looked Keith's way, and they were a very silent, very subtle way to say that he wasn't to be bothered. Common knowledge.

A yawn rose from Keith as he pocketed his phone and earbuds, the boy stretching for a quick moment before he shook off the fatigue that seemed to rise in the back of his mind, and pick up his bag. He picked up a pair of his very comforting fingerless gloves before silently going down to the first floor of the house, pulling on the gloves as he reached the bottom steps. He looked over to the kitchen, considering grabbing something for breakfast before he went set out for the train station.

The light was on. Huh. A familiar little slip caught his attention. He picked it up and then set it back down with a sigh. Matt and Shiro had left early for their classes. No wonder there'd been the knock on the wall. They were telling him that they were leaving and that he needed to get up. That he'd need to lock the doors when he left. That was usually what it meant if it wasn't just them telling Keith to wake up.

Keith rubbed his eyes and let his eyes gloss over the kitchen. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing a few oranges. He peeled them, wrinkling his nose as the citrus scent filled his nose, cleaning off his fingers before he grabbed a water bottle, his house key, and locked the house behind him. He put his key on his school ID before he zipped up his jacket and pulled out his earbuds. He didn't care what he listened to, he just wanted to get the day over with and come home so he could get through his homework and talk to his brother or go to sleep. Even as he found himself listening to B.A.P. for multiple reasons. It soothed over his anxiety and helped him relax. He decided that those were the main reasons along with the fact that he understood Korean, and he liked what they covered and generally liked their style of music.

With the songs that played, Keith let the world around him become nothing more than something to occupy his eyes. His silence was rewarded with no interaction as he traveled through the subway system, rubbing his eyes as he found himself mouthing the lyrics whenever he found that he really couldn't focus. He idly ate his orange, deciding that he didn't want to pull his sketchbook out in public and that no one would really care if he kinda just.. stood there and kept an eye on the time.

Then again, it wasn't really about what people cared abut, more about what occupied Keith's attention. Hence why he went sorta numb once he boarded his train and seated himself by the door, never touching the rail or touching one of the handles to stand. Sound was drowned out and it seemed like the world was moving oh so slowly around him. He just blasted his music in his ears and looked around. People watching was a pretty interesting act when he actually found someone or something interesting. He liked to think that it helped his with his art, the thoughts unrelated to his dreams. Helped him find more realistic characteristics to add to his personal characters. Anyone that drew the people he did would often lose credit or end the school day bruised for taking his characters. His art was personal. There was a reason he refused to talk about it to anyone, but Shiro and his teacher.

Yeah, that was a bit off topic, but not the point. At least he could enjoy the feeling of blending into the shadows of the train. Any eyes directed toward Keith seemed to burn holes through his clothes, metaphorically. When Keith looked up to meet the burning eyes, his dark eyes, often full of disgust and frustration would meet predatory eyes that would avert themselves when met with the intense fire of Keith's gaze. It helped as an intimidation factor.

Trains were a dangerous place to be when those kinds of people were around. Keith was lucky enough to know how to avoid being the center of attention. Or even worth someone's attention. The thought would've saddened others, but it provided Keith with a sense of relief. It meant that he couldn't be seen as prey. He wasn't naive, he knew that people still looked his way and considered approaching him, some did, but Keith was smarter than just letting someone grab a hold of him or trying to force him into conversation. Earbuds made it difficult for anyone to really catch his attention, and years of fighting gave him some defensive skill.

Lucky Keith.

Keith at least deemed himself lucky for the morning as he hopped off the train ride after a song or two and rang in his ears. He made sure to walk while standing a bit taller, hands in his jacket pockets as he continued being deaf to the world around him. No one would really look twice at him if he just bled into the crowd. Even when there were moment where Keith was alone, he never felt one set of eyes fall twice on his smaller body.

It helped that everyone tended to keep their attention on their phones or on something like a couple kids playing in piles of leaves rather than a random teen in dark clothing on the was to his high school.

Altea High to be specific.

As it came into sight, Keith couldn't bring himself to decide whether he hated or loved the place, he never could. It might've been a few years, but every time he woke up and started the day, every time he was in a rut he was reluctant to say that he even began to hate to place. So every time he hit some kind of block, he decided that he loved Altea High. He loved everything from the architecture to the history of the building. Keith even loved the classes that he took. With that, Keith had decided that he hated the _people_ in the school. They were the ones that caused Keith so much frustration and gave him grief. They were the ones that made left Keith debating on going to school or staying in bed until he was dragged out and driven to school.

People were the ones that made everything so difficult for Keith. Not school.

Keith was good with school, his grades spoke for themselves.

People on the other hand.. previous disciplinary records and reputation spoke a bit louder. It'd be rough for whenever Keith wanted to get a job that wasn't him working behind a cash register at some gas station, but he knew that whatever job did accept him would probably be something he'd love.. probably. He couldn't promise himself anything other than the fact that he wouldn't work at McDonald's. He refused to work there. He'd trade a gas station for McDonald's at any point.

Keith pulled the hood of the jacket from his head, running a hand through his hair as he stepped foot on school grounds, shifting his weight along with his bag to better fit his figure at the moment as he pulled out his phone. The parking lot was full, as per usual, the grounds littered with friend groups laughing and playing in the dead leaves. Keith huffed as he dragged his eyes back to his phone, wanting something loud to distract him from the sight of others. His eyes were drawn to the kpop station. He let it play in his ears, pausing a moment as he listened to his mother tongue play in his ears.

This left Keith a bit vulnerable, sure, but he loved listening to music rather than the whispers of those around him. That way he couldn't get too pissed off whenever someone bothered. That was, if he didn't recognize them. Usually the more familiar faces were the ones that got Keith in trouble. More than he would've gotten into on his own.

Keith was silent as he walked to his first class of the day, the same as always. Nothing old, only.. well, history was actually pretty old. To rephrase; nothing new, only old. Sure his history teacher was pretty cool and entertaining, but it was the content that bored Keith out of his mind. Not to mention that his English wasn't the best, even if it was pretty good, so reading English text for practically a whole day of school was a task in itself. Not to mention that practically no one spoke Korean, so Keith was stuck on certain parts of the text, unable to continue reading and listen along until he was back on track.

Keith was lucky that his teacher, Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe (who everyone just called Coran rather than Mr. Coran or Mr. Smythe), was interesting, but also kind enough to tend to him when he noticed that Keith was stuck on something. He helped a lot of Spanish speakers who were given English notes and filled in the blanks that they couldn't recognize. For Keith, if he ever got genuinely stuck and continued his silent struggling in his seat, Coran would find it in himself to get up from behind his desk and help figure out what words Keith was missing.

Keith even had a page of words he still struggled with written in English and Korean. It was stupid, but at least he had a way to keep from bugging Coran too much, like he found he had earlier in the school year.

Keith's previous teachers hadn't been so patient or forgiving.

They just wanted to sit behind their desks and let their students do whatever. That often led to Keith staying after school or class to redo whatever work he'd failed and the teacher having to work with him, anyway.

That.. wasn't the point.

Point was that Keith was silent as he walked into the classroom, glad to have Coran as his teacher, even if he hadn't arrived, yet. Keith was curious as to why he wasn't in his usual place at the front of the room, wearing his energetic grin while playing with his mustache. The man was.. he was very eccentric. Keith found himself appreciating and looking forward to his classes, even if Keith would easily finish his work with little help and struggle to remain awake for most of the lessen. He found himself recording the class period whenever he caught himself dozing.

He was lucky that Coran was okay with that.

Which again brought the question of where the eccentric man had gone off to. He was never one for tardiness, in class even before Keith. It was an odd event that caused a sort of weariness to rise in Keith. What if the ginger man was hurt? It wouldn't have been the first time it happened, and the thought actually caused worry to stir in Keith as his classmates began steadily trickling into the classroom before the first bell ring. By then, they'd begun pouring in.

Keith's heart picked up the slightest bit. He had the sudden urge to take off his gloves, although didn't give himself a choice as two relatively familiar faces seated themselves in front of him. A pale, short-haired ginger girl and a somewhat stocky dark skinned male with dark brown hair that almost brushed his shoulders at it's longest point, yet didn't cover his ears. Keith found that this duo, Pidge and Hunk, got along far too well and often distracted Keith. He wasn't too frustrated either way. It wasn't like he could see the board even if they weren't in the way.

They were talking again, in the same hushed tones they would whenever they were hiding something or were excited over something. As his music came to a pause, Keith was tempted to listen to the two of them, deciding against it as he searched through his playlists over again to find something to calm his mind. But...

"Yeah, I saw him down the hall."

"Pidge, are you sure that it was Coran? I mean, why would he-"

"I'm positive."

Keith paused, thumb over the play button as their words seemed to finally register in his head. Yeah, Keith was the supposed emo loner with anger issues, but he had a heart. Despite what Keith told himself, he was concerned for his teacher. Coran had grown on him since the school year started. And the attachment, no matter how much it terrified Keith to admit it, was still very much there. He wanted to make sure that the teacher that was so important to him was okay.

Besides, sometimes Pidge and Hunk were talking about things he could understand. The mention of Coran, the fact he may be okay, was definitely something Keith wanted to understand.

"Yeah, it was odd. I've never seen him outside of the classroom in the morning. Spare for.. the printer incident- but that isn't the point!" Pidge's voice was low and cautious as she spoke, as if someone would hear her is she spoke even a fraction louder.

Any quieter and Hunk wouldn't have been able to hear her. Keith was odd that way. He could hear her regardless.

"Then what is the point?" Hunk was whisper-yelling at her. If Keith had been reading, he'd have smirked behind or at his book. Seeing the two grow impatient with each other was always somewhat amusing, even when Keith wasn't paying attention to anything.

"-ith some new kid."

New kid? Almost halfway through the school year? Why would anyone move in the middle of the school year? In the middle of the school _week_ nonetheless.

"Okay, now you're just playing with me." Hunk huffed as he pulled out his book and.. whatever new trinket he and Pidge were working on for extra credit. You'd think they'd be in college rather than high school. "Who would transfer or move here in the middle of the school year? Right before the snowy season." He poked the small of the two as they began to work while talking to each other.

Keith had always thought they were an odd set of friends.

"No, I'm serious. He was almost as tall as you and he looked kinda like surfer with short hair. His skin was closer to your skin tone than mine. His hair was short and a bit darker than his skin, kinda mocha-ish. His eyes were very blue. He's pretty lanky, too. I think Coran is supposed to introduce him to us, because he apparently went through the school yesterday without anyone noticing. Aside from the principal, who lead him through the halls for some reason."

There was a slight tick in the back of Keith's head. It was like a chain reaction was set off. Each word spoken, each sentence ended, Keith's mind filled in the blanks of the picture. Tall, almost as tall as Hunk, dark hair, tan skin, lanky, and very, very blue eyes.. eyes so deep it was like the sea could swallow him whole. No- no, it wasn't the same person. Couldn't have been. Keith just had an overactive imagination. It just happened that the people around him looked familiar.

Keith wasn't living that kind of life. Yeah, he had a 'tragic past', but so did others in the school. It wasn't like they dreamed about people and grew emotionally attached to the point that they were crushing on some made up guy from their dreams. He wasn't living that stupid life where he met 'love' in high school and they lived happily ever after just because Keith literally dreamed of this boy saving his life on multiple made up occasions.

Keith didn't have that kind of life, and there was no way he was getting that kind of ending.

So he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and looked to his phone.

Yet, Keith still couldn't get the nameless boy from his dreams out of his head.

Damn those talkative nerds. Damn Keith's overactive brain. Damn it all to hell. Maybe not to hell, but damn it all. Keith was so tired of misleading and disappointing himself. Why did he have to listen in on their conversation if all he was going to do was send himself down a mental spiral of anxiety and frustration? Maybe it was because Keith was genuinely craving attention, or starting to want friends more than ever before. Maybe he just wanted to make himself seem special so he could cope with the crippling loneliness he refused to fully acknowledge.

All of this over the image of some dream boy, too.

Wow.

Shiro was right.

Keith really was a mess.

Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair as he finally settled.

Then there was a disturbance. Listening to his music, Keith could still hear past the blasting over his earbuds, just not always as good at times as others. So Keith turned off his music and looked up. At the sight of familiar red locks, Keith relaxed, the sound of the Australian accent settling back in his ears. Coran was alone, again at the front of the classroom. Keith almost relaxed until he found himself registering the words being spoken by the energetic man. Someone who was too interesting to teach just a history class.

"-new student! Yes, I know it's pretty late in the year, but I promise that he's good!" Coran chuckled, settling the class with small movements of his hands. It seemed that the man had more energy than the ADHD kids that were tapping away on the desks or floor. Coran was always moving. Whether he was waving his hands around in the air or pacing at the front of the room, Coran was always on the move.

It so happened that Coran was one of the people that could be like that and Keith be completely at peace with it.

Weird.

"I know that this is very sudden, even if our room is fairly small." It was. There were only a few in the class, really. It was an AP class. Mostly for students that didn't have much to do or worry about when it came to after school events. This new student had to be a smart kid.

Keith wasn't sure how to feel about him, yet. He just took a deep breath and calmed his heart as he looked up, waiting to see this mysterious boy.

"Ah, well I shouldn't keep you all waiting. Come on in, and introduce yourself!"

How often was Keith going to be in his thoughts, again? He didn't know, but there was movement. Small, at first, but soon there was a confident step. And then another. And another. Until there was a boy standing by Coran.

Keith was at a loss.

He was.. familiar, but they'd never met each other. Keith swore it on the stars, they'd never met so long as he could remember. Keith was absolutely _not_ the best with recognizing faces, proven by the people that came up to him and grew frustrated whenever Keith couldn't say their name, but he definitely felt like he knew this boy.

He was tall, really tall in Keith's mind. He was almost as tall as Coran when the two stood side-by-side. He was lanky, just like Pidge had said, but.. she never said that he had muscle. Like.. he had the body of a swimmer and skin that had to be naturally tan and had to have come out of the sun days before at the same time. There were worn converse on his feet as Keith took in his appearance, and blue jeans that were ripped at the knees, along with a three quarter sleeve with blue hems and sleeves along with a grey torso. There was a green military style jacket wrapped around his waist. Looking up, Keith could catch sight of a shit-eating grin, but what really caught Keith's attention was the boy's eyes.

They were blue. So utterly blue. And deep, too. Almost mysterious, like the depths of the ocean. Not may people with his skin tone had such vibrant blue eyes, but Keith couldn't bring himself to be anything but fascinated by the sight of such a deep blue. It was so familiar..

"-duce yourself!" Came Coran's voice, again.

The sound ripped Keith from blue eyes that seemed to stare into his heart and make it race twice as fast.

The boy with striking eyes and the swimmer's body nods, the shit-eating grin softening into an almost gentle smile. It made Keith's gay little heart stutter.

"Heya, I'm 'the new kid'." His voice was pretty, too. "And my name is Lance McClain."

* * *

 **Oh my hell, that took so long. Okay, so.. I never exactly gave myself a time limit, but I really wanted to get this uploaded.. yesterday. I wanted to try having a deadline for once, and it still didn't work. I wanna die, yet I'm so proud of myself for making something over 5,000 words long, I just had to post it. I know it was super long and drags on at some parts, but I had to try. I hope you have enjoyed this first real chapter of my story, and would love any feedback, constructive criticism or simple compliments (anything is appreciated), on my work. Thank you for reading! This is posted on my Wattpad and Quotev as well.**


	3. Little Anxieties

**Usual disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender, nor do I own the characters themselves. I own this story idea and that is all. Thank you.**

* * *

Keith could only stare with silent, wide eyes in contrast to the practically uncaring students that sat around him. His panicking should've been alarming to Coran, but Keith couldn't begin to question the lack of concern. Not that Keith could fully register Coran as a part of the.. or whatever was happening.

Lance.. Keith, along with Shiro, had convinced Keith himself that Lance was no one special. Just a figment of his imagination created in silent desperation for someone to trust. Someone other than Shiro of course, who came to be the only person Keith had.

The one person who could leave him at the same time.

Lance was Keith's personal romantic escape.

Which would seem pretty pathetic to others if they thought about it, but Keith could have his little fantasy outside of odd dreams and real life. Keith, before Shiro and.. after his father.. Keith only had himself. Others would and him aside or keep him around for the money if they couldn't handle his attitude, and, throughout the years, Keith just found that he wanted someone.. someone close. It was just.. he could still be lonely even with Shiro in his life.

So why was Keith staring at the boy of his dreams if that was all he was? A boy made from fantasy and odd dreams. Dreams that Keith still struggled to determine as dreams and dreams alone. Nothing more.

Keith decided that there was nothing worse than not understanding the situation at hand.

Which was only brought back to his attention once the echo of his own name caught on his ears. He blinked, eyes searching before they fell on Coran's eyes. Both bright, yet holding silent concern for him.

Was Keith really so lost in his head that he'd missed when Lance's voice ended and Coran's began?

It was something that should've been easy to distinguish. Coran's voice had the slight rasp that came with age, but had the same energy that made everyone forget that he could be any older than thirty, not to mention that Coran had a sort of Australian accent. Maybe leaning toward a New Zealander, but more Australian than anything. Whereas Lance's voice was much younger. It was just as bright as Coran's, but was more solid and had a different kind of.. happy tone to it.

Keith had no idea why he didn't notice the very audible shift.

Maybe he should've been more concerned with the fact that he knew this.. real Lance's voice better than he should've. Because, again, he shouldn't have been real.

Keith swallowed, eyes searching Coran's expectant form before previous words finally settled in his ears, and Keith almost wanted to pretend that he didn't hear a single one, but Coran's more relaxed form meant that Keith had visibly responded in a manner that meant that he knew Keith had heard him.

So, almost timid in his actions, Keith raised his hand, wondering why on Earth Coran would seat someone like Lance next to Keith. Keith who was best and often worked best on his lonesome.

Keith who didn't need anymore distraction or emotional complication because of the boy that shouldn't have existed, but did.

It was obvious that he was there, too. People were looking, and they could obviously hear him. Keith couldn't bring himself to look up, though. It hurt.. because what if Keith really was losing it? Keith had dreams in which Lance was real. Even though Keith knew that he wasn't.

Yet the light footsteps against the school's tile flooring was all too real, so solid.

Keith really wanted to leave all of a sudden.

It just couldn't have been real.

A slow weight beside him brought Keith back to Earth along with the inevitable heat of another person. It took another moment, after registering that heat, for Keith to remember to put his hand down and take a deep, slow breath. He needed to relax, keep calm. He didn't even need to look at the boy next to him, much less hear whatever he said. He just needed to get through the class. Maybe it was the only one he had with the blue eyed Cuban boy. Keith could hope.

Maybe, just maybe Keith would get lucky with this.

Just once.

* * *

Keith was not lucky.

He was exhausted. In the past three classes - spare for Coran's in which he actually managed to focus on the lesson, thank the Ancients - it was like Lance was following him. He showed up in each advanced class, wearing the same smile that made Keith's heart race and clench at the same time, looking to everyone with the same deep blue eyes that should've known Keith better than he knew himself, in the same jacket that Keith wished he'd worn.

Keith was so deep when it came to this boy, and Lance likely had no clue.

Keith had genuinely fallen for a boy that shouldn't have existed.

It was a realization that Keith became desperate to ignore, but it was oh so apparent. Keith really couldn't hide from it. He wanted to- needed to so, so bad. He just couldn't.

It seemed like a certain few were starting to take notice.

Looking through his locker for his binder, Keith wished that they hadn't.

He could hear the whispers, his name lingering on people's tongue. People Keith knew he shouldn't have been able to hear, but he heard all too clearly. Keith was always odd like that, his hearing stronger than the average person's. Especially since he only had his earbuds in and not playing. He just wanted to be left alone, but he didn't have any music that was loud or calming enough for Keith to listen to in the school halls.

With the familiar weight of heavy bodies approaching from behind, Keith wished that he'd turned at least something on. Oh well, he didn't have the time or it, anymore. He'd just have to hope he could ride this out long enough for the bell to ring or for an administrator to step into the hall.

In his school, jocks didn't get passes because they were the best players on the team. They either passed or they failed, or they got something put on their disciplinary record. So they had to make things quick and as quiet as possible. Keith was usually lucky in that department.

Sadly, as previously stated, Keith was going on a bit of an unlucky streak.

"Hey!" It was a girl this time, a cheerleader. Her voice was high, an almost nasally tone.. she was one of the oh so high and mighty. Nyma. Keith really must've been going on an unlucky streak for her to come around.. or...

Keith turned to face her. He was actually curious. Nyma, a snooty blonde that didn't have much to show spare for her odd popularity, rarely approached Keith unless she wanted something. Or someone. While she and Keith weren't on the best of terms due to his own odd relationship with her brother, they were on terms better than Keith and the local jocks.

Which left him.. ah. That made more sense.

It was Nyma, Rolo, and a couple other jocks. They were all wearing tennis shoes. He wondered why the pair - Rolo and Nyma - weren't wearing their usual pair of boots. Keith tried not to put too much thought into it. The small change in wardrobe wouldn't mean much to others, but for Keith it was a silent signal of whether he needed to escape or if he had a chance. He was edging toward escape. Tennis shoes usually meant fights, oddly enough.

Keith didn't speak, waiting for the blonde to make her case before he decided that it was time for him to leave and make his way to class. He wasn't lucky, but judging from hers and Rolo's tall bodies and relaxed smiles(smirk in Rolo's case), Keith could assume that all they wanted was information.

Judging from the lingering whispers that involved his name, homophobic slurs, and Lance's name or descriptions of the boy's appearance, he had a feeling that they wanted to know about the new boy Keith wished didn't exist. Even if Keith wanted nothing more than to be with him.. Lance obviously didn't know him.

"So.. I heard that you've made a new friend." A pale finger twirled a strand of blonde hair, a familiar sickly smile that made Keith feel sick making an appearance. There was strain. It looked painful. Suddenly the light in her eyes wasn't so bright.

 _Oh._

 **Shit.**

Keith didn't back down, refusing to show his sudden anxiety. Not because he was exactly scared of the woman, no not of her. Nyma on her own was a frail flower if you weren't on her bad side. She could kick ass, but she was in school.

It didn't take long for Keith to figure out what the jocks were there for.

Rolo shot Keith an apologetic look.

Keith didn't blame him.

Keith a slow breath, despite it being a very visible show of his anxiety. He wasn't going to fight. It wasn't going to be a fight, it was just intimidation. Keith still chose not to give a response, cocking his head to the side instead. Because there was a chance that he misunderstood. Keith never really was the best as reading in between the lines.

It got him into even more fights, usually.

It looked like it was going to get him into another with the way Nyma tensed under Rolo's jacket. Although Rolo seemed to reign her in with a gentle hand to her hip and a few words that Keith shouldn't have been able to hear. He did anyway. He did have 'supernatural hearing' according to Shiro. Although Rolo just called it 'freaky cool'. Speaking of.. he could still hear them.

"You have to be more patient with him." Rolo's voice was low as usual, but strained in an effort to seem relaxed. To be relaxed. Rolo was a good guy. He was just.. caught up with an angry girl. "You know that it takes a while. We know that he needs more than just implication. It's not like you're exactly the best when it comes to social cues, either." He murmured, obviously pulling strings to make sure that Nyma didn't misguide her emotions or judgement.

Nyma seemed only to grow more frustrated until mention of her own social struggle came in. There was a reason that she and Keith were on terms. They weren't friends, but they had understanding of each other. To some degree.

"I know." She breathed, relaxing against her brother. "I just.. I really want a shot with this one."

 _She.. what?_

"I know. Just be patient. Lance is new." _Oh._ "Keith probably won't know much more than us." _So they.._ "You just need to be a little more.. blunt." He chuckled, as if he were making a joke. Keith didn't get it, but he had a feeling that he understood why they were there, now.

Keith blinked, slowly coming back to himself as the two whispered among each other, allowing them a moment of privacy as his eyes roamed from the group of jocks, and then to the little nerd they had. It was another part of the Rolo and Nyma's misfit family, not that it was too big. But really, looking at them, they were a bunch of misfits.

Rolo had dark skin, well.. darker than Keith's. He would be considered light skinned, his skin leaning toward a cedar brown although his hair was obviously platinum blonde. Keith was never sure whether it was bleached and dyed or natural, but never thought too hard about it. Although most never really got close enough to see, Rolo actually had dark brown eyes rather than blue. Rolo was definitely among the tallest on the basketball team, and a pretty good engineer.

Nyma had kind of a sandy blonde thing going on, her skin only two shades paler than bronze. She looked very much like yellow, but she didn't always have the brightest personality. Her eyes, which were natural, were actually purple, not that Keith got close enough to see it. She was one of the best cheerleaders in the school, although she was beat out by a sophomore by the name of Plaxum.

And then there was Beezer, which Keith was pretty sure was just a nickname for the little nerd among the jocks and cheerleaders. The groups were fiercely protective of them regardless. Something to never forget, Beezer was nonbinary and more like Pidge than anyone Keith had ever known. They were quieter though, but ask them anything scientific or mathematical, ask them anything about literature and it was like an in depth search and they'd spout anything you needed to know. They really could've gone to college, but they wanted to stay with Nyma and Rolo.

Beezer was really pale, paler than Keith. To the point of albinism. Their hair was more of a chestnut brown, but they often dyed it to look more like a slate blue. They had pale blue eyes, both very intelligent, and were about as short as Pidge.

The two were close friends, actually.

Which wasn't the point.. Keith got really off topic. Maybe he should've gone to get diagnosed with ADD. He struggled with paying attention sometimes.

"Keith."

He turned to face Rolo and Nyma, both of which had gotten closer some point during Keith's mental disconnect.

He really, really needed to pay more attention. If he was missing things so often in one day, Keith could only imagine what the rest of the year would look like if Lance had only just come and Keith was already becoming so lost.

Gods, the jocks would wreak havoc on him. They were probably planning it as he stood before them.

Keith's eyes focused back on the misfit siblings that stood together. It made more sense to him personally, seeing as he knew that they were all adopted.

"I heard that you made a new friend." Nyma spoke again, more relaxed as she looked to Keith, but she held a dominant air as she looked to Keith. She stood taller as she looked to him, eyes slightly narrowed, her lips thin. She wanted answers. Despite this, she still looked to Keith like she was challenging him.

Out of habit, Keith sized her up, standing straighter, taller. His eyes were narrowed in frustration. His hands were in his pockets, but he knew that he looked anything but timid in that moment. It wasn't a matter of survival in the moment, but he still didn't like how she was looking at him. He didn't like being challenged for dominance.

Keith in general just didn't like being challenged.

He shook his head, taking a moment to remind himself that he wasn't in danger. Rolo was still there. Nyma was just anxious. Keith licked his lips, running a hand through his hair.

Another shake of his head. Keith hadn't made any friends since freshman year, when he met Rolo. His first boyfriend despite his dreams. They were hazy and unclear at the time, but he still had felt a pull toward his mind and memories at the time. Keith just hadn't recognized the feelings, the meanings behind them, at the time.

"No. I don't think that anyone particularly _wants_ to just appear in my life. I don't exactly have 'friends', anymore. The few that I considered friends.. well, only one stuck around." He shrugged, looking to Rolo as he spoke. He wasn't talking about Rolo. Maybe he would've been a couple years previous, but knowing and experiencing what he had the way he had, Keith could only call Rolo close. Just no longer a friend.

Keith watched as Nyma visibly relaxed, slumping against her brother with a sense of relief. It was funny, because.. she really thought that Keith of all people would make a move on the new guy, an attractive guy nonetheless. Keith had balls, but there was a reason Keith would rather fade into the background.

Besides, it was wise to stay out of that girl's way if she felt threatened.

A shrill ringing that could only belong to the bell echoed through the halls signaled lunch for Keith and Rolo, while it signaled that Nyma and her jocks were late for their next class. Lunch schedules were odd like that. Still, Keith himself heaved a sigh of relief under the cover of the bell, still a fraction stiff as the halls cleared out and he was left with Rolo.

For a moment, the two only stood there.

Keith looked uneasily to Rolo, waiting. Were they going to talk? Or was Keith back to being on his own? In the moment, Keith could only feel a spike of unease before Rolo turned away at last.

And then Keith let out the breath he forgot he'd been holding, turning back to his locker.

"Thank you, Keith."

Startled, Keith stood still, looking over to the dark skinned male. For what? Why was Rolo thanking him? "I.. I didn't do anything." He just said that he only had one friend. What did that really do for Rolo? It wasn't like he hadn't known or anything. It was actually a well-known fact about Keith.

He really only had one friend at that point. His friend being his adoptive brother. Rolo was only an acquaintance to Keith; someone who Keith knew and used to know, but was not a friend.

Yet, Rolo was thanking him for whatever reason. As if he'd lifted some sort of burden off the boy's shoulders.

"I'm just.. thank you. You have no idea what this means for her." For Rolo. "I'm just glad you can put yourself aside for others. I know Nyma isn't always the most stable or easy to get along with." _Oh._ "Just.. thank you for letting her have this." _Oh._

Keith understood.

Rolo was thanking him for letting Nyma have Lance. Thanking him for being a recluse. Rolo was glad for Keith.. why?

Keith decided that it was best not to ask why. He just nodded as he looked to his phone rather than Rolo, whose back was still turned to him. "Glad I could help," he said, voice strained as he bit out the words. To some extent, Keith really was. Nyma was relaxing, actually going to try rather than just push her way around and worm her way into a heart she planned to break. Rolo didn't have to worry about Keith paying for Nyma's temper when Keith had stepped aside and cleared the path. Rolo was glad to know that Keith wasn't in immediate danger, and Keith was glad to have lifted that burden for whatever reason.

But he wasn't glad knowing that he essentially had to submit to Nyma for his guaranteed safety. He wasn't happy knowing that he was even on Nyma's list as a potential threat to a possible brokenhearted boyfriend that she couldn't bring herself to love in the way she wanted to be loved. Keith wasn't glad that Rolo had to have his guard up around his sister. Had to be wary of her for her temper.

So Keith hadn't lied, he'd just left out a few details. Who was he kidding, it was still a lie of omission.

Yes, Keith still did recognize the different types of lies. He wasn't stupid, just a bit slow. English wasn't his first language after all, and it was the only language people seemed to speak. Then again, it wasn't like there was anyone that really spoke Korean and Keith was struggling with Spanish-

Off topic.

Keith wasn't glad to know that Nyma was still a ticking time bomb, but he was glad that Rolo would get a moment to rest. Rolo was a chill guy. While Nyma could be similar, in school there was always a tense air about her that Keith couldn't get behind. It was toxic and dangerous. Rolo deserved a break from being everyone's bodyguard.

A slight pressure on Keith's shoulder had the teen stiffening up, his breathing caught in his throat. Who was touching him? Who was touching him _who was touching him_ _who was to **uching him-**_

A soft sigh, a release of tension followed, cutting off Keith's train of though. "Still the same. Always afraid when you can't see who's touching." Keith relaxed a fraction, letting out the breath he'd forgotten that he'd been holding. Rolo, still Rolo. Why? "Take care of yourself, okay?" He breathed, and Keith knew that he couldn't. but he swore that he could feel Rolo's breath against his neck. Keith swallowed, nodding the slightest bit. "Thank you.. take it easy." With that, Rolo's hand slipped away.

Keith suddenly felt like he could breathe again, a hand reaching over his front to his arm, rising slowly to rest on his shoulder. Out of all the craziness that'd happened, Keith was okay with the last bit. It was just something he missed. Something he forgot that he missed, most of the time.

Touch wasn't really something you'd associate with someone like Keith, after all.

Keith took a moment to just stand there, taking comfort in the heat that was quickly pushed aside by cold and a familiar sense of silence. Keith was okay. Just a bit overwhelmed. That had happened quickly. Keith was just glad he didn't drop out of the conversation and lose track just because he was having a hard time keeping up.

Back to reality.

Lunch, right. Keith could smell it from where he stood in front of his locker, but he knew that he wasn't going to buy from the cafeteria. The food there never exactly tasted good and definitely wasn't the best quality. It was a little late to drive off and pick something up, so Keith settled for getting food from the food truck. Keith just refused to eat from the cafeteria. Again, the food there was never really good. Why try?

Besides Keith wasn't exactly in a rush. It wasn't like he was going to meet anyone. He just wanted to get something in his stomach so he could cope with the next three classes. Not including Study Hall. Study Hall was basically just Keith trying to get through his Pre-AP English III and Pre Calculus classwork or homework. Both were difficult, but - believe it or not - Keith wasn't the best at math despite being Asian. Korean, at that. Math was actually his worst subject. Ever. Throughout his educational history, he was just the worst at math.

Which was saying something, because English wasn't his best subject either. Again, not his first language.

Shocker, the super smart Asian kid is bad at math. Although it really wasn't much of a shock to anyone who payed attention. Much to Keith's personal entertainment.

Something Keith had to remind himself sometimes. Like as he walked away from the truck and over to one of the outside tables to sit and eat. Food truck food wasn't exactly good, but it was better than the trash they served in the cafeteria. At least their very much American version of Asian food wasn't too bad.

There were worse ways to make Asian food, whether the Americans believed it or not.

Keith was American, too, but that wasn't the point.

Point was that Keith had some food to eat. Something close to his cultural home. Well, aside from Texas, but he was never really a steak kinda person. He ate it more for nostalgia's sake than anything, but it never changed. It always made Keith smile in ways school, and the people within, often failed to.

It was the little things in life. The little things.

Keith was kinda different in that way. He saw things that almost no one else ever did. It was something he could do since he had so little to concentrate on aside from his phone. Staring at a phone, browsing through Pinterest, Tumblr, or something of the nature could get boring after a while. After all, people watching helped Keith with his art. It helped with his writing, too. Although that was a something on its own, he reminded himself as he took a bit of odd food truck mashed potatoes. At least it wasn't grits- the school's mashed potatoes.

As he walked to his usual spot, having been too out of sorts to remember to plug in his earbuds, Keith could catch edges of conversations he didn't pay much attention to. People were a waste of time if they weren't going to help him throughout life, but they still spoke and Keith wasn't exactly in the mindset to full on tune them out. So he just let his ears roam. Listen in on things that didn't concern him, and likely didn't even consider those in the conversation.

Girls harping on guys, guys bragging about something.. girls whining.. guys bitching, really there was nothing new. Boring, but it was high school. Nothing was ever going on unless it was against the law. Law breaking wasn't really common in their school though, so there was truly nothing going on. That was the decision he came to as he sat at the table furthest from the school and ate. Right, there was an outside bunch of tables for when the lunch room was too crowded. It wasn't that crowded, but it was quieter outside really.

All he had left was the rest of Lunch, study hall, and then his last two periods. Then he could go home and do something other than think about the new boy. Keith was so tired, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. At least he'd have some illusion of alone time after school. Unless Matt and Shiro were home. He wouldn't mind spending some time with them for the first time in forever. Yeah. Keith could think about that rather than.. him.

* * *

 **Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. I started it so long ago, but it's mostly just Keith being angsty and me wanting to get to a good part. Or a possibly good part. I'm going to make the next one sooner, but it still might be a while. There's definitely more room for improvement, but, like I said, this was essentially a filler chapter. Not much goes on when you don't have many friends. (Sorry, not sorry, Keith)**


End file.
